! PS 593 
I.L9 A3 




Over 50 Songs. 



C~ir rJg t 1878 by A. 




CONTENTS OF SONG LIBRARY NUMBER THREE. 



An Irishman's Ramble 

A Cra Cal Machree 

Are You There, Moriar- 

'ty 

Cruiskeen Lawn 

Delia's Young Man 

Dandy Pat 

Erin, My Country 

Farewell, My Avour- 

neen 

Fenian's Escape 

Cood Bye, Biddy Dear 
Cal by the Name of IWc- 

Cee 

Cod Bless You, Colleen- 
Hildebrandt McCuffin.. 



I'm Tould you Carry a 

Pop • 3 

I'm the Boy from Done- 
gal 4 

Irish Exile (Sketch) 9 

I Say, Lads, Have You 

Seen My Molly 13 

Kathleen Mavourneen-- 3 

Killarney •■■ 14 

Kitty Tyrell 12 

Mary O'Moore 7 

Mike McCann ... 5 

Mary Avourneen 5 

McCowan's Wedding . ... 12 

Norah O'Neill ... 14 

No'rah, The Pride of 
Kildare • •• 8 



None can Lov like an 

Irishman 

Norah McShane 

O'Reilly, you're N. C- ■ 

Oh ! Bay of Dublin I 

Our Native Land so 

Creen 

Our Ould Irish Home- I 

Pretty Peggy 

Paddy's Land I 

Poor Old Mike 

Perfection (Music) 

Rose of Erin I 

Since Mary Ann Learn- 
ed to Dance 

Swate Castle Carden-.- 

Sligo Musketeers -•• , 

Sweet Potteen **4 

St. Patrick's Day I 



Send Back My Barney 

to Me J 4 

Shamus O'Brien -v. 12 

Since Terry first joined 

the Gang ••.... 13 

Tim Flaherty- 4 

That's What Gives You 

Away-- 5 

The Way I/Marched I? 

Van Dieman's Land 

Wearing of the Green. 
Wake not that Harp 

again 

Will She 

Her • 

You wou ■ 

Your Nye 



let 



A.. J. FISHER, Publisher, No. 98 Nassau Street, 



FISHER'S SOUG LIBRABT. 




PRETTY PEGGY. 


O'EEILY, YOU'RE N. a. 




IKISH SONG WITH DANCE.— By Pat Booney. 


[Copyright Secured, 1875, by Pat Roonby.] 




K-lisic Pub. by Loins P. Gootaaud, Boston, Mass. Price 35 cents. 


«»o<.< irith great success at the Olympic Theatre, >* 
Written by Harry Bekktt 


T? 


To my darling I will always prove true, 


Kind friends if you will listen now, 




And look on her with a smile of love ; 


My woes I'll now tell you ; 




X«ike a sunbeam she's beautiful and bright, 


My heart is nearly broken, 




With eyes like the little stars above. 


And I don't know what to do ; 




Chorus, 


No matter where I chance to go. 
Nor wherever I may be, 




She's the fairest in all creation, 
Pretty Peggy, charming creature, 


The blackguards cry as I pass by, 




PretijrTeggy, darling loved one, 


O'Eeily, you're N. G. 




^^Ah ! she's like a little bird in the spring. 


If I go into a tavern, 
And call out for a boos, 




s^' When you're in her company for a while, 


The gang says I must treat them 




>^ Just look at her curly jet black hair ! 


Or their frendship I will lose ; 




Her face is always brightened with a smile, 


And if I do refuse them, 




Faith, none with my jewel can compare. 

She's the fairest, &o. 


Their heads they shake at me, 
And sing out Philadelphia— 
O'Eeily, you are N. G. 




The day is coming when I'll wed this pearl, 




i 


The thought of it cheers me on my way; 
J The bells will ring, and the colleens will sing, 


It was just before election 




When she names the happy wedding day. 


I was called to make a speech, 
Por a friend of mine , 




Chorus. 


Whose name was Thomas Lich ; 




She is the fairest in all creation, 


The gang was there, I do declare, 




Pretty Peggy, charming creature; 


And when I did begin, 




Pretty Peggy, darling loved one, 


' They said, for God's sake, fira him on';" 




Ah ! she's like a little bird in the spring. 


Where did he get his wind ? 




r Jtea.ce. 1 


I couldn't speak a word at all, 
They made such a terrible noise ; 




: o : 


And all at once I felt a brick 
Hit me between the eyes, 




YOU WOULD NOT LEAVE YOUR NORAH? 


And through the door I fled, for sura j " 




A A ^^^OU would not leave your Norah, 
FjrTpb ^° P' ne a ' one behind, 
1023 The wide, wide world before hoc- 


Sure they meant to murder me, 




And when I was outside 




And no one to be kind. 






The times are hard and trying, 


I heard them cry, 




But, Dennis, perhaps they'll mend, 
Tou would not leave your Norah, 


O'Eeily, you are N. G. 




You yet may want a friend." 






CUORCS. 


The slang the gang is using now, 


j 


" You would not leave your Norah, 
To pine alone behind, 


You'll hear from every lip ; 




The wide, wide world behind her„ 


Its shoot the hat ! and get it boiled ; - 




And no one to be kind." 


And don't you lose your grip ! 




Ik ''■ Yef , Norah, dear, I am going, 


They say I'm too fresh, and too bran new. 




1 1\ And yet it breaks my heart, 
To see your eyes are flowing 


And will I ever drop, and stag his nips, 




->^ With tears because we part. 
\ 'Tis sad to leave old Erin, 
1 \ A stranger's home to share; 


And skip the gutter, and hit him with a v >x> 


j 


The children there are using the slang, 




x But sadder still, I'm fearing, 




1 


VWithnone to love me there." 


As well as every one. 




S You would not, etc 

\ ! 


They'll say to me, go take a bath ! 




"Then, Dennis, take me with you 


And why don't I take a run ? 




You know not half I do; 


And then they'll say, 




1 -> ere's no one to forbid you, 






^ i '■ saved,a pound or two. 


Go stop the coat, so long as Tra la la les " 




I'll si he you in every sorrow-. 
If Pr 5 . he pYiest you tell. 


But the worst of all 




Yes, Norau, 'ear,. to-morrow, 
Then Erlr . ••>. thee well." 


Is when they bawl — 




I could not, etc 


! Eooney, you're N. G. 


i 



FISHER'S SOITG LIBRARY. 



Since Mary Ann learned How to Dance 
the Tra-la-la-loo ! 



Written 1 Habky Bennett, expressly for Pat Roons 
only, under whose name it is Copyrighted, 1875. 



My name is John MeGuekin, I'm a dacent working man, 
I tries to raise my children up the very best I can ; 
But with my daughter Mary Ann I don't know w)«at to do. 
For she's learned a kind of dancing that the.v call the 
Tra-la-la-loo I 

. Choetjs. 

Since Mary Ann learned how to dance, 

I don't know what to do ; 
She's out all night 'till broad daylight, 

A dancing the Tra-la-la-loo ! 

On every moonlight pic-nic sure my daughter can be founrl„ 
And when I bid her stay at home she says, 'Go feel around ;" 
And on starlight excursions, where the band plays Flewy- 

eome-flew, 
'Tis there I'll find my Mary Ann a skipping the Tra-la-la-loo! 
Since Mary Ann, &c. 

Bad luck tomoonlight pic-nics, they have ruined Mary Ann, 

Since first she learned to pivot with young Terry and his 

gang ; 

But if I find her there again I'll beat her black and blue — 

She's gone to the divll intirely, since she learned the 

Tra-la-la-loo ! 

Since Mary Ann, &c 



£ 



$ 



N& 



Farewell Mary Avomeen, 

'■fvjyy Mary Avorneen, 'tis now we must part, 
^*^> Be strong dear acushla don't let the tears 

start. 
I go to the strife both nravely and true, 
Desure Mollie darling I'll ever lore you. 
the thought of your lore will gladen my heart, 
A.nd make your own Shamus bear bravely his 

part. 
A-h Mary Avorneen, 'tis now we must part, 
Be strong dear acushla don't let the tears start. 

My Mary Avorneen, it is not for gold, 
I'd leave you alone — my heart's not so cold ; 
But rather for right and Old Ireland's sake, 
1'hj boy of Glengall will make tyrant's quake ; 
The maidsof dear Erin, "God bless them" and 

all— 
Their prayers Mollie ask for the boy of Glen- 
gall. 

Then farewell my Mary, oh yes we must part, 
Be strong dear acushla don't let the tears start. 
Love Mary Avorneen, I now have left tli<-e, 
To make dear old Irelond a land of » , "> " 
Here's that we may live to hear the words said- 
Old Ireland's green tow waves o'er the red. 
The Harp of Old Erin her strings shall renew 
The "Ever Green Flag" and the "Red, White and 

Blue" 
Must wave to all nations from staff, ma-t and tree, 
As c mblems of nations who boant to be free 



A, 



I'M TOULD YOU GARRY A POP. 

[Copyright,, 1875, by Pat Rodney.] 

Written by Harkt. Bennett, expressly for Pat Boonet, 
v.nd sung with great success by him at the Olympic Theatre. 

My name is Pat McAlister, in the Fourth Ward I belong ; 
I am no politician, though my principles are Btrong. 
Hike this City well enough, but here I cannot stop ; 
Go where I may, they're sure to say, I'm tould you carry a 
pop. 

Chokus. 

The blackguards do make fun of me, 

And when I bid them stop, 
They say, now " cheese it," Old Times Bocks. 

I'm tould you carry a pop. 

I don't know what they mane -at all, they think that they 

are smart ; 

They say to me, go hire a hall, and tell me I'm too tart ; 

They tell me to go bounce myself, and call me old boy crop, 

But divil a word like this I've heard, I'm tould you carry 

a pop. 

The blackguards, <fec. 

They call me tough man, and they say I carry a spoon in 

my boot ; 
They howl from every corner, stag the pigeon-toed galute. 
And when I walk along the street they call me lifty-go-hop, 
And crack it light, ould coffin back, I'm tould you. carry 

a pop. 



KATHLEEE MAVOUKNEEN. 

A POPULAE IRISH BALLAD 
%jj/ athleen Mavourneen ! the gi'sy dswii i; 

r^ .;.-, breaking, 

The horn of the hunter is heard on the hill, 

The lark from he:.' light meg the bright dewifc 

shaking, 
Kathleen Mavoumeen, what slumbring still I , 
Ah ! hast thou forgotten soon we must sever? 

Oh ! hast thou forgotten this day ! we must part) 
It may be for years, and it may be forever, 
Oh ! why art thou silent, thou voice of my hesi'i 
It may be for years, and it may be forever, 
Then why ari thou silent, Kathleen Mavom'J 
neen. 

KathleenMavourneen awake from thy slumben 
The blue mcuniahis glow in the sun's golden 

light, 
Ah ! where u the spell ihr.t once hung on nry 

numbers, ( 

Arise in thy beauty thou itar of my night, 
Arise in thy beauty thou star of my night. 

Mavourneen, Mavourneen, my sad tears a?0 

falling 
To think that from Erin and thee I must pari, 
It may be for years and it may be forever 
Then why art thou silent.thou voice of my heari 
It may be for years, and it may be forever, 
Then why rrt thou silent, Kathleen Mavaav ' 

neen 



FISHER'S S03STG- LIBRART. 



TIM FLAHERTY. 

ICopyright, 1872, by John Ohu»ch & Co.] 
Sung with great success by Pat Rooney. 

I'm a lighthearted Paddy, a rale Irish, laddy, 

I went to America strange wonders to say ; 
I sailed from dear Cork for the port of New York, 

I was eighteen long days a crossing the say. 
When I arrived in the land I was tuck by the hand 

By a blaggard who said, "Paddy, come go v.1.11 me, 
And I will show you the city, the sights are so pretty. " 

He says, "What's your name ?" says I ' ' Tim Flaherty.* 

Chorus. 

I'm Tim Flaherty, arah, gaze upon me ; 
A lighthearted Paddy is Tim Flaherty. 

He showed me around, the sights were soon found, 

I viewed them with wonder and astonishment : 
When he bade me good-bye, tears came in my eye, 

I found he'd been through me, and took iv'ry cint, 
What to do I didn't know, where was I to go ; 

So I wint to the Coort, and explained to the Judge. 
He called me a pauper, a vagrant and loafer, 

And gave me six months in the Island above. 

I'm Tim Flaherty, &c. 

So I shouldered my bundle, and homeward I wandered, 

Ould Erin forever, oh, she is my joy ! 
It's here I'm at home, and never will roam, 

For she's good enough for a rale Irish boy. 
Sure, there's whiskey galore, just here by the door. 

And beauties you ne'er can find afar o'er the say 
And the girls are so pretty, so nate and so witty, 

And that's just what suits the lad, Tim Flaherty. 

I'm Tim Flaherty, &c - 



I'M THE BOY FROM DONEGAL. 

Copyright secxired, 1876, by A. J. Fisher. 

Written by Harry Bennett. Sung with immense success 

by Pat Rooney. 

Good evening, to ye , Gents and Ladies, 

I've come to make a little call ; 
I'm descended from the great O'Grady's, 

The best you'll find in Donegal. 
A year ago I took the notion 

To sail across the briny deep ; 
The sea was in a great commotiori, 

I could'nt get a wink of sleep. 

Chorus. 

They call me roaming Mick O'Brien, 
I'll fight 'till I'm pushed to the wall, 

The young girls they were all a crying 
When I came from old Donegal. 

Sure I was known throughout the country, 

And devil the one with me could dance ; 
I was the first in every nation — 

And drunk when I had the chance ; 
I used to drive the women crazy, 

So nimbly I could shake my feet ; 
They never found me slow or lazy, 

At jigging I could not be beat. 

They call me roaming Mick, &c. 



Send back my Barney to Me. 



Hie 13 gone; and I'm now sad and lonely, 
Jg| He has left me to cross the wide sea, 
But I know that he thinks of me only, 

And will soon be returning to me. 
His eyes were filled with devotion, 

As my husband lie said he'd soon be : 
Then blow gently, ye winds of the ocean, 
And send back my Barney to me. 



If at night as I rest on my pillow, 

The wind heaves a moan and sigh 
I think of each angry billow, 

And ivatch every cloud o'er the sky. 
My bosom it fills with emotion. 

As I pray for one over the sea ; 
Then blow gently, ye winds of the ocean, 

And send back my Barney to mc. 



He has left me his fortune to better, 

I know that he went for my sake ; 
Soon I'll he receiving a letter, 

If not, sure my poor heart will break, 
To say that he'll soon be returning, 

To his dear native Ireland and me. 
Then blow gently, ye winds of the ocean, 

And send back my Barney to me. 



Our Native Land is Green 

jypE'RE what yees call green horns 
JJg We're only just landed 
From the City of Dublin, 

Afar over the sea; 
Though to be called green. 
We will not stand it, 
Tho' foolish we look 
We know all your waya 



Chorus. 

Tho' our native land '113 greer* 
Oh, that's no reason why. 

That we should be called the saara. 
Remember that, me boys. 

"Twas not want, nor starvation. 
That brought us amongst yo*o. 
As from our appearances 

Tha<; you can see, 
For at home we had plenty, 
'Tis trie truth that I tells yees. 

But we lon?ed for to see. 

This land of the free. 

Tho' our nativa && 



FISHEH'S sonsro- LIBRARY 



MIKE McO ANN, THE ALDERMAN. 

Copyright secured, 1876, by A. J. Fisheb. 
As Sung with unbounded applause, by Pat Rponex, at 
the Olympic Theatre. 
All the trials and troubles— 

To yon I will relate — 
That I have had to undergo 

Through being a candidate •, 
I always lived a quiet life, 
Until one Mike McCann, 
He came to me, and says, Duffle, 
You must run for Alderman. 
Chobus. 
'Twas in the 7th Ward below, 
In a neighborhood they call Cork B"-" ; 
Where the boys of me made a holy show, 
When I ran for Alderman. 
It was in McCann's back room, 

That night they nominated me ; 
I axed the boys to have a drink, 

As they gave me three times three ; 
They drank and smoked, they smoked an^ drank, 

'Till drunk was every man ; 
'Twas all at the expense 

Of poor Pat Duffle, the Alderman. 

'Twas in the. <fec. 
But when election day it came, 

I found out very soon, 
The boys had all gone back on me, 

And were voting for Muldoon ; 
And when I axed the raison why— 

To laugh, they all began — 
Saying, we don't want no Tarrier, 

For to be our Alderman. 

Twas in the «c. 



a MARY AVOURNEEN. ^ 

dltfMS'ary ! dear mary ! I've come back to thee, 
CssBut cold is the welcomeyou nowgiveto trie 
Is there nought then in parting, or nough t i n long 

years; 
Is there nought in the absence I've mourn d too 

with tears ? 
For the gold of the stranger I left thee in pain, — 
For the jewel of hope I have come back aj.ain ! 
But 'tis only to meet, like a dew drop from high 
With the sunbeam it lov'd, then heart-broken 

to die 

Oh ! Mary 1 dear Mary ! I've come back to thee, 
Oh I give then Avourneen ! kind welcome to me. 
Mary ! dear Mary ! Oh ! turn not away ; 
Sure I 'tis joking you are in the sunshine to day, 
Yet now 'twould be pleasant to meet with a smile 
To shew you were laughing, and loving the while, 
Oh ! let me not lose all my dreams of the past, 
The hope of the future where joy too is cast. 
Let thy love be mylamp : and I'll worship I is light 
'Till the heart it ilium d be hush'd in dark night, 
Oh ! Mary ! dear Mary ! &c. 



That's What Gives You Away, 

Copyright secured, 1876, by A. J. Fisheb. 

Written by Habby. Benkett. Sung with great applause 

by Pat Kooney. 

When I landed in America, I settled in New York, 
And wandered up and down the streets a trying to get work, 
But eveiy place that I'd inquire, oh this is what they'dsay, 
For heaven's sake take that dicer off, for that is what gives 
you away. 

Chobus. 

Go where I may, roam where I will, 

The blackguards they do say— 
Oh ! Take that dicer out of the draft, 

For that is what gives you away. 

I walked the streets from morn 'till night, my heart was 

sore distressed ; 
And whin I'd ask for woik they'd say, oh, go, pull down 

your vest! [key pray ; 

Thev said go on to the platform and with Moody and San 
And' get those peg tops taken in, for that is what gives you 

away. 

Go where I may- &c. 

I went into an eating-houte to get a bit of bread, 
The waiter called me Jimmy Lush and put me on my Wd, 
I axed the Mayor for a job and to me he did say— 
You'd better get another face, for that one gives you away. 

Chobus. 
They say, have you time to carry a trunk? 

How long are you going to stay? 
And get those side-boards taken off, quick, 

For that is what gives you away. 



m 



POOH OLD MIKE. 

As sung by Gus Williams. 



was reared in Doncaster, 
(§gd Some forty years ago, 
But times are very different 

As many of you know ; 
I've had my share of sunshine, 

Of course I can't complain, 
But the good old days have passed away, 
And they'll never come again. 
Poor old mike. 

For now I'm growing old, 

And my age it does decay, 
A poor old, worn out stableman, 

Every one does say, 

Poor old Mike ! poor old Mike I 

When I was rising six years old, 

They first put me across ; 
One of Lord Derby's favorites, 

For a trial round the course ; 
So firm and neat I kept my seat, 

The knowing-ones they stared, 
As I rattled in from a two mile spin, 

Every one declared — 

" 'Twas clever little Mike I" 

But now, 
Then I was made a Jockey, 

It suited well my taste, 
A handy chap at a handicap; 

Smart at a steeple chase. 
East, west, north, or south, 



"JP I SHEIK'S SONG HjX-B^tJ^T^lT. 



GOOD-BYE, BIDDY DEAE. 

As sung by Johnny Roach. 

HERE I am an Irish boy, 

Who is always fond of mirth, 
And show me the crea'.ure 

Who would slight me for my birth, 

And I have a neat coleen, 
In Dublin far behind, — 

I always was a broth of a boy, 
And my coleen she is blind. 

Chords. 

Good-bye, Biddy dear, 

It's hard to part from you, 
Although I am going to leave yea, 

Me heart it will prove true, 
Then cheer me, vourneen, 

And don't look so forlorn, 
The harvest time is coming 

And I'm off to sheer the corn. 

I wouldn't have left Ireland, 

But times were hard, you know, 
To see the starving creatures, 

It would break the heart of stone, 
I bundled up iry kit, 

While Biddy wept and sigh'd, 
And a; the vessel left the dock, 

I step'd on b'.ard and cried, — 

Chorus. — Good-bye, Biddy dear, &e> 



Swate Castle Garden. 

As sung by Gus Williams. 
^jfV^jjpf hen I landed in sweet Castle Garden, 
l~. 3Rs I j»st come from off the big say ; 
In me pooket I hadn't a faren 

"".-.si 1 lapped out upon the Broadway. 
I staped upon to a lamplihter, 

The mistery tor to unravel, but his hair 
Was cut like a prize fighter, 

So I shouldered my trunk and travelled. 

Chorus. — So hurra for the stars and stripes, 

And the land where we never see 

jobs 
If I hadn't come here 
I'd be digging turf in the bogs. 

The road it wus durty and slippery, 

Till I came to the street they called Wall t 
When the blaguards caulled out, there goe» 

Croppy, till I came to the big city ball. 
1 axed a dutch puddler the way. 

And the answered me, thunder an4 
blitzen ! 
Judge Connoly lepped out to meself 

And made me an American citizen. 
So hurra, etc. 



HILDEEBRANT McGUFFIN. 

Written and sung by John D. Gktjttn, the Popular Irish 

Comedian. 

Here I am, an Irishman, 

As you can plainly see ; 
I just came over from Ireland, 

From the county of Tralle. 
When I landed in Castle Garden, 

On America's soil to tread, 
I was met by a fair haired maiden, 

And this is what she said — 

Choetjs. 

Tra-la la ! Tra-lale ! I'll meet you pet, 

I'll meet you in the Park when the weather it is wet ; 

I'll strike you with a Turkey-leg, I'll smother you with the 

stuffing ; 
For the darling of the ladies is Hilderbrant McGuffin. 

Oh ! when I was married about a year, 

I found to my great joy, 
My wife she made me a present 

Of a darling, bouncing boy ; 
And when at night he'd holler for his Paregoric, 

Or any such thing, 
My wife she'd dance him up and down, 

And this is what she'd sing — 

Tra la la, &c 



THE WEARING OF THE GREEN. 
gjj& KITTY, did you hear the news that's 
111 



gone round, 
The Shamrock is by law forbid to grow 
on Irish ground ; 
No man St. Patrick's day shall keep, their col 

ors dare not be seen, 
For there's a bloody law against the wearing 
of the green. 



i met with Nepper Dandy, he took me by th& 

hand, 
He asked me how old Ireland was, and how 

did it stand. 
It's the most distressed country that ever yet 

was seen, 
For they're hanging men and women, for the 

wearing of the green. 

Then if the color we must wear, by England'* 

cruel red, 
Let it remind us of all the blood that Ireland 

has shed. 
Then pluck the Shamrock from your hat, and 

throw it on the sod, 
For never fear it will grow there, though un^ 

der foot it's tord. 

When the law can stop the blades of grass from 

growing as they grow, 
When the flowers of the summer time their 

colors do not show : 
Then I will change the colors I wore in my ca- 

been, 
But until that day, please God, I'll stick 

a-wearing of the green. 



FISHER'S SOITG L IC IB IR, A. IEL Y. 



VAN DIEMAN'S LAND. 

As Sung by Wii Majob. 

Come all you lads of learning and rambling boys, beware, 
Whenever you go a hunting bring your dogs gun and snare, 
For those lofty hills and valleys we have at our command. 
Not thinking of the last farewell going to Van Dieinan's 
land. 

There were three men from Galway town, Martin, Luke, 
and James, • 

They were three loyal comrades their countrymen they 
formed, 

An .1 it's there they were transported by the keepers of the 
strand, 

And for seven long years transported, going to Van Die- 
man's land. 

We had a true-love on board the ship, JaLe Murphy was 
'her name ; 

And there she was transported for carrying on the game ; 

The captain fell in love with her, and married her out of 
hand; 

O, she gave us the best of treatment, going to Van Die- 
man's land. 

This land in port we went to, was on a foreign shore, 
' r he negroes they surrounded us, about five hundred score ; 
They yoked us like horses, and sold us out of hand, 
They yoked us to a trace, bravely, to plow on Van Die 
man's land. 

The houses they built for us, weid made of mud and clay, 
The beds we had to lie upon, was made of rotten hay, 
O, rotten hay for beds, my boys, and slumber if you can ; 
Sure, they gave us the worst of treatment, all in Van Die- 
man's land. 

One night, as I lay down to sl«ep , I had a pleasant dream , 

I dream'd that I was in old Ireland, down by a purling 
stream ; 

1 dream'd I was in old Ireland, my true-love at my com- 
mand ; 

But when I awoke my heart was broke, all in Van Die- 
man's land. 



DELIA'S YOUNG- MAN. 
As Sung by Frank Gayton. 

ij|^|j;y name it is Larry, I m from Tipperary, 
GliSS Where the girls are so good and'iha 

whiskey bo fine, 
I'm just one and twenty and I'd money plenty, 

\VlfiIe a dealer in pig's meat and things in that 
line j 
Through Ireland I rambled, my money I'd gamble 

'Till as poor as a beggar without nary a red, 
My heart still was easy for Delia my daisy, 

I footed a fortnight my darling to wed. 
My journey ended, my steps I soon wended, 

To house of my loved one that stood on the hill, 
Our hearts light with joy, myself and Molly 

Drank health to each other 'till we had our fill . 
Arri red at the door, what could I do more? 

But play off genteelly and send up my name, 
And instead of my dearest came one of the 
fiercest, 

An ugly old huckster saying what do you mean. 

Says I I'm here without dread or fear, 

For the hand of my darling for thatsure 1 come, 
Says he, "you can't have her, while me he did 
lather," 
'Till I called out for mercy and hollered with 
pain, 
Oh I I'll have your life for she's my wife, 

You scoundrel how dare you ? with rage he did 
spout, 
And I without fail was marched off to jail, _ 
That ended ray loving and now I am out. "** 



THE SLIGO MUSKETEERS. 

Words and Music by Hahey Bennett. Written expressV 
for Teeeney & Cbontn. 

Oh, let ye stand from under now and open wide your ears, 
While we relate the story of the Sligo Musketeers ; 
Sure, whin we landed on Ihissoil ontWestthaymacleusgo. 
And we worked at canalling in the State of Oh-ho-ho. 
But when the war it did break out it took our job away, 
We organized a Company and wint into the fray ; 
We fought the ragged rebels, boys, for many a weary day, 
But (hey could'nt bate the Sligo Musketeers. 

Chobus. 

With our 'aa, ha, ha, ha, hayfoot, straw, we marched across 

the plain, 
And many's the time we thought we'd thought we'd never 

see our homes again ; 
The rebels fought like devils, but their fighting was in vain, 
For they could'nt bate the Sligo Musteteers. 

We fought, wid Banks ami Burnside , and wid Grant wt 

took a hack, 
But the best of all, though he was small, our gallant little 

Mac ; 
Fai th ! if they'd let him have his way, he'd surely drive 

thim back, 
If assisted by the Sligo Musketeers. 
Sui j, he knew how to Engineer, likewise to command ; 
No matter what your station was he'd take you by the hand. 
He looked so noble on his horse when he was in command 
Of us fighting boys, the Sligo Musketeers. 

With our ha, ha, &c. 

But now our lave of absence, boys, is very nearly spint, 
We'd ax you all to take a ball, but we're without a cint ; 
On Erie shares, and all such snares , our money it is lint — 
It completely broke the Sligo Musketeers. 
We'll say Good Evening, one and all, your pardon, too, 

we crave, 
We did our duty, manfully, this country for to save ; 
May the Shamrock and the Stars and Stripes in triumph. 

ever wave, 
O'er the fortunes of the Sligo Musketeers. 

With our ha, ha, <fec. 



MARY O'MORE. 

Sung by J. L. Woolsey, of Dupbbz and 
Benedict'* Minstrels. 

flpb.1 the sun smiles a farewell to evening 
\ngS$ And then hid its beautiful face : ' 
While the moon leaped the sky in its beauty 

Adorning the bright world of space 
The sweet little stars took their places, 

And smiled as they ne'er smiled before; 
tor I looked at their beautiful faces 
And thought of sweet Mary O'More. 
Chords. 

would that to night, I were with thee. 

My heart would no longer implore- 
The blessing of seeing and loving, ' 

My beautiful Mary O'More. ' 

Oh ! I thought of the thatch'd covered cottage, 

And the door that looked out on the sea- 
And a face loooking out of the window, 

And a memory thinking of me. 
And a tear from my sad eye come creeping, 

As I thought of the time in the door : 
When I took the fond hear* in my keepii.jj , 

Of my beautiful Mary O'More. 

Chobus. 

O would that to night I were with thee, 
My heart would no longer implore; 

The blessing of seeing and loving. 
My beautiful Mary O'More. 



pisher's sonsro- libr^ :e?.-2\ 



PEEPECTTOrT. 

Sung by Miss Ella Wesnek, America's Champion Man Impersonate: 1 . 

-f> K |S 



HI 



1. Some plebeian swells you've heard a - bout, Who 



PEEPECTION -Concluded. 



i 1 

25 • 


25 • 


=d laz_f^- jr 


-L- 1— 


& ' 



am per - fee - tion In man - ner and con - nee - 




il 



Show, le - vee or rout, They haug on Fashion's 



m 






brink, These men of brass, how soon a - las, Their 



4= 



ar - ro - ganca will sink, Be - fore the proud and 



Wit 



£S 



£= 



fee - tion. 



=tc 



Eefei 



•ty Don, Surnamed Per - fee - tion Pink. 

Spoken.— By Jupiter ! there's nothing more delightful, more 
exhilarating, more transcendent, than to be associated with 
the really polished swell. Precisely — 



s. 
















:f:> i=r 


-1 
-&—- — 


<? 





25 • 


— 1 — 
-G> — 


1— 




— j — 

-G> j 



Per - fee - tion, per - fee - tion. All say I 



NORAH, THE PRIDE OF KILDARE. 

As beauteous as Flora, is charming youn^ 
Norah, 
The joy of my heart, and the pride of Kil- 
dare; 
I ne'er will deceive her, for sadly 'twould 
grieve her, 
To find that I sighed for another less fair ; 
Her heart with truth teeming, 
Her eye with smiles beaming, 
What mortal could injure a blossom so rare. 
As Norah, dear Norah ! the pride of Kil- 
dare. 

Where'er I may love I'll ne'er forget thee 
love, 
Though beauties may smile and try to en- 
snare : 
Yet nothing shall ever, my heart from thine 
sever, 
Dear Norah, sweet Norah ! the pride of 
Kildare; 

Her heart with truth teeming, 
Her eye with smiles beaming, 
What mortal could injure a blossom so rare 
As Norah, dear Norah ! the pride of Kil- 
dare. 



Per - fee - tion, per - fee - tion, per - fee - tion. 

2 To join the army it is grand, 
And meet the flower of the land, 
To squeeze fair creatures by the hand 

And to their bright eyes drink. 
When on Parade or off at Mess, 

Such duty I ne'er shrink; 
To teach the fellows how to dress 

I'm thought Perfection's Pink. 

SpoTcen. — Yes, by Mars ! there's nothing more exquisite, 
more transcendent, than a well, dressed fellow in the thervice 
(service, ) precisely. 

Cho.— Perfection, &a. 

3 In all the sports I'm awf ly fine, 
At Croquet, Billiards both I shine; 
I once played in a Pantomine, 

By Jove! to see me wink. 
I'm sure dear girls I am not vain 

Now don't you really think 
For manners and accomplishments 

I am Perfection's Pink? 

Spoken. — Yes, dear girls, if I only gain but a smile from 
your beaming countenances, I shall really consider myself - 
Cho.— Perfection, &c. 



NONE CAN LOVE LIKE AN IRISHMAN. 

The turban'd Turk may scorn the world, 
May strut about with his whiskers curl'd, 
Keep a hundred wives under lock and key, 
For nobody else but himself to see ; 
Yet long may he pray with his Alcoran, 
Before he can love like an Irishman. 

Like an Irishman, &c. 

The gay Monsieur from Gallia's shore, 
The haughty Don and the soft Signore, 
The Dutch Mynheer so full of pride, 
The Russian, Prussian, Swede beside, 
They all may do whatever they can, 
Before they can love like an Irishman. 
Like an Irishman, &c 

The finikin fops themselves beguile, 
And think they please in a capital style; 
Yet let them ask as they roll the street, 
Of any young damsel they happen to meet, 
And I know she'll say from behind her fan, 
That there's none can love like an Irishman. 
Like an Irishman, &c. 



IF 1 1 SIEGER'S SOUSTQ- 



Barkeeper, 
" Coffee 



IEISH EXILE. 

AN IRISH SKETCH. 
By William H. Trimble. 
CHARACTERS: 
Terence Doyle. Harry Cavanagh. 

Scene.— .4 street in 2. House on flat, with 
Bbvjse above the door. Enter Terence very slowly. 

Terence— So I'm in America at last ! I've b :en two long 
months crossing the sea. It's sick I am ; what misery I feel ! 
I have not tasted a mouthful of food these last two days. I 
will die with the hunger; I cannot go any further— I must rest 
myself. I would like to have a drink of water, for I am as 
thirsty as can be (knocks at door. Boy comes to door.) 

Boy — What do yer want ? 

Terence— If ye plase, sir, coula you give me a drink of wa- 
ter? I am nearly dead with the ship fever. If ye plase, sir, 
give me a drink of water. 

Boy — No ! clear away ! 

Terence— Oh, please, sir, give me a little water. 

Bot — No! (shuts door— exits.) 

Tebence— Oh, I will die in the street (sinks on the stage.) I 
wish that I could die, and be placed along in the grave where 
my poor mother lies (song) — 

It s an exile I am, 

I've been driven from hom«, 
And now in a strange land, 

'Mid strangere to roam; 



NORA McSHANE. 
fes vc left Ballymornacb a long way behind. 

To better rny fortune I've crossed the big sea, 
But I'm sadly alone, not a creature to mind me, 

And, Faith ! I'm as wretched as wretched 
can be ! 
I think of the butter-milk, fresh as the daisy, 

The beautiful halls, and the emerald plain : 
And, ah ! don't I oftentimes think myself crazy 

About the black-eyed rogue, Nora McShane. 

I sigh for the turf-pile so cheerfully burning, 
When, bare-foot, I trudged in from toiling 
afar, 
When I tossed in the light thirteen I'd been 
earning, 
And whistled the anthem of: Erin go Bragh '. 
In truth, Ibelieve that I'm half broken-hearted: 
To my country and love I must get back 
again , 
For, I've never been happy at all since I parted 
From sweet Bally mornach and Nora McShane. 

Oh ! there's something so dear in the cot I was 
born in, 
Tho' the walls are but mud and the roof is 
but thatch ! 
How familiar the grunt of the pigs in the 
morning! 
What music in lifting the rusty old latch ! 
'Tis true I'd no money, but then I'd no sorrow: 
My pockets were light, but my head had no 
pain ; 
And if I but live till the sunshine to-morrow, 
I'll be off to dear Erin and Nora McShane 



LIBRARY. 

I've seen many hard times, 
While crossing the briny wave, 

But long for some earth 

From my poor mother's grave. 

Chorus. 

'Tis a handful of earth, 
From the land of my birth, 
From the green grave 
Where me poor mother lies. 

I've been banished from my home. 

From the isle across the sea, 

long to see my native land, 

The place so dear to me ; 
Whene'er 1 think of my home, 

It brings tears to my eyes, 
When I think of the green grave 

Where my poor mother lies. 

'Tis a handful, etc. 

Scene Closes In. 




Will She Let Me Kiss Her? 

Music by Rollin Howard. 

* iw\fi' len sitting by my darling's side, 
fteS%2> She promised soon to be my bride, 
With smiles that nearly set me 
.In ecstacies they were so sweet, 
My heart began to pant and beat, 
And moving closer still my seat, 

I whispered will she let me kiss her ? 

Will she let me, will she let me kiss her? 
I quick encircled with my arm, 
Her waist (now sure I meant no harm 

To her who oft did pet mt) 
She tried to get herself away, 
She smiled and frowned, yet looked so gay, 
That I nonplussed for what to say, 

Just murmured will she let me kiss her ? 

Will she let me, will she let me kiss her 1 
I gazed within her love-lit eye, 
Whose drooping lashes made me sigh, 

"Can eyes so pure forget me ?" 
0, no they never can for they 
In every glance do seem to say 
"For thee I live, for thee I pray?" 

Then surely she will let me kiss her ! 

Surely let me, yes, she'll let me kiss her r 
Enraptured at my own request, 
She drooped her head upon my breast, 

And made such thoughts beset me, 
That I bewildered, plunged in bliss, 
Sighed "Surely there is Heaven in this,' 
And here I stole a long sweet kiss, 

And found egad ! She'd let me kiss her I 

Yes she let me, truly, fondly kiss her ! 



10 



FISHER'S SOZfcTG L I B IR, .A. K, Y. 



CRUISKEEN LAWN. 

Descriptively sung by Clara Moore. 

Let the farmer praise his grounds, 

As the huntsman his hounds 

And the shepherd his sweet-scented lawn, 

"While I more blessed than they, 

Spend each happy night and day, 

•"With my smiling little cruiskeen iaw.., 

Lawn, lawn, lawn, 

With my smiling little cruiskeen lawn. 

Chorus. 
Oh, linth asue the cruiskeen, 
Shlant the ga mavoumeen, 
Gra machree ma cruiskeen, 
Lawn, lawn, lawn, 
Gra machree, me cruiskeen, lawn. 

Then fill your glasses high, 

Never toast with lips so dry, 

Till the cock does awake in the mora. 

And if you can't remain, 

May we shortly meet again, 

And we we'll take another cruiskeen, 

Lawn, lawn, lawn ; 

And we'll take another cruiskeen lawn. 

Oh, linthe asue, etc. 

And when grim death appears, 

After many happy years, 

And tells me that my race is run, 

I'll say, begone, you slave, 

For great Bacchus gave me lave, 

Just to take another cruiskeen, 

Lawn, lawn, lawn; 

Just to take another cruiskeen lawn. 

Oh, linthe asue, etc. 



Oh ! Bay of Dublin. 

Sung by Rollin Howard. 
Music Published by White Smith. & Perry, Boston. 

W|§j)h I Bay of Dublin ! my heart you are troubhn 
OrS Your beauty haunts me like fever a dream, 
Like frozen fountains, that the sun sets bubling, 

My heart's blood warms, when I but hear your 
name j 
And never till this life-pulse ceases, 

My earliest, latest thought you' 11 cease to be 
Oh! there's no one here knows how fair that 
place is, 

And no one cares how dear it is to me. 

Sweet "Wtcklow mountains ! the sunlight sleeping 

On your green banks, is a picture rare, 
fou crowd around me, like young girls peeping, 

And puzzling me to say which is most fair, 
A.s tho' you'd see your own sweet faces, 

Reflected in that smooth, and silver sea. 
Oh ! My blessin' on those lovely places, 

Tho' no one cares how dear they are to me. 

How often when at work I'm sitting, 

And musing sadly on the days of yore, 
I think I see my Katie knitting, 

And the childer playin around the cabin door; 
1 think I see the neighbors faces 

All gathered round, their long lostfriend to see 
Oh 1 tho' no one here knows how fair that place is, 

Heaven knoWB how dear my poor home was to 



PADDY'S LAND. 

Composed by Johnny .Roach. 

COME all ye boys from Paddy's land, who are inclined to roam, 
To reap the English harvest so far away from home, 
Be sure you're well provided with comrades bold and true, 
"For you have to fight both day and night 'gainst John Bull and 
his crew. 



Chorus. 

Then hurrah, my boys for Paddy's land, 

'Tis the land I do adore, 
May heaven smile on every child 

That loves that shamrock shore. 

When we left home foi Dublin, the morning it being clear, 

And when we got on board the boat, we gave three hearty cheers. 

Saying: Good-bye, my boys, to that dear old land, we ne'er 
may see it more, 

For we're going to fight both day and night, all for that sham- 
rock shore. 

Then hurrah, &c. 

"We sailed away from Dublin quay, and ne'er received a shock, 
Until we landed in New York, long side of the dock, 
Where thousands of our countrymen that were all in that town, 
And "Fagh a ballagh, clear the track !" were the words that 
passed all round. 

Then hurrah, &c. 

Then away we went in merriment to drink bourbon and wine, 
Each iad lie gave his favorite toast for the girl he left behind; 
"We sat and sang, made the ale-house ring, despising Erin's foes, 
Or any man that hates the land, where St. Patrick's shamrocls 

grows. 
i " — - Then hurrah, <fcc 



Gal by the name of MoGee. 

* ords by Frahk Dumont sang by Frank Gaitos. 

M'll ring of & darahiel bo lovely and few, 
With hor in beauty no gal could compate, 
Sitcli loTirfy eyes and sweet curly hair, 
Had this gal by the name of HoGee, 
Her pa and her ma were both mighty rich, 

They lived up on avenue V. 
The sports round the city were all deep in love, 
With this gal by the name of McGee. 
Chorus. 
Phe cared not for them but in spite of theta 
moans, 
She cast them aside for a fellow rami J .net, 
He sat on the end and he rattle the bones, 
In a niggei band down on Broadway. 

To see him perform every night she would go, 
The seat she would take was in the fiont row, 

■west seated boqaets to him she would throw 
Te let her lev* know she was there. 



FISHER'S SOUSTO- LIBRARY. 



11 



SWEET POTTEEN. 

I sung in Ed. Harriqan's Irish drama " Iascaire," by Hah- 
rioan and Hart. 

Jopyrignt 1876, by A. J. Fisuek, 9S Nassau Street, New l'ork 



Sweet Potteen, you deceiver, 

I love you just a3 well, 
Since the day when first I met you, 

You threw o'er me a spell ; 
You're winning, you're enticituj, 

As soft as Asia silk, 
I love you, oh my darling, 

As the baby loves its milk. 

Chords. 

Then drink to your neighbors, 

Drink to your Iriends, 

The dew from the mountain stream | 

It once you took a drop, 

Upon my soul you'd never stop, 

A drinking of the sweet potteen. 



Old Bacchus, you deluder, 

With all your coaxing ways, 
You've enslaved me liked a spider, 

When brought within my gaze -, 
Wid whiskey I'm so frisky, 

From my head down to my toes, 
I'd praise you, oh my darling, 

To your friends or to your f es. 

Then drink to your, <fcc, 



ABE YOU THERE, MORIARITY! 

SONG AND CHORUS. 

Words by Ed. IUrrigan. Music by Dave I3k.'jsam. 

Published by kind permission of Ed. Harrigan. All rights 
reserved. 



I'm located at headquarters, 

A "Special Officer!" 
Cornelius 'Riarity, 

Here, at your service. Sir! 
I know the thieves and blackguards too, 

Wherever they may be, 
And if you want a "fly Copper," 

Call Moriarity 1 

Chorus: 

I'm a dandy Copper in the Broadway Squad, 

A " Metropolitan M. P." 
And the young girls cry, when I'm passing by, 

"Are you there, Moriarity?" 

The shop-girls going to labor 

In the morn, at eight o'clock, 
They wink and blink their loving eyes, 

At me on every side ! 
They say I am their darling, 

With me they'd tralalalel 
In a smiling way, you'd hear them say,* 

"Sweet Moriarity I " 

I'm a dandy Copper &e. 

My uniform is Navy blue, 

And it fits me like a duck ; 
I escort the ladies in the street, 

All thro' the mud and muck I 
For coach and horse stop when I cross, 

I'm the ladies Own babyl 
As on they go, they whisper low, 

"Are you there,Moriarity! " 

I'm a dandy Copper &c. 
•Spoken, — "You duckcy." 



St, Patrick's Day, 

I'M going to get drunk, Norah, 
j Pray tell me why astorah, 

Sure to-day it is the Seventeenth, 

The day we celebrate, 

In honor of St. Patrick, 

Old Ireland's patron saint. 



Chorus. 

On St. Patrick's Day, 

We'll march so gay, 

Up the Bowery and down Broadway, 

If we don't have fun, 

The devil's to pay 

On the Seventeenth of March, 

This is the hat I'll wear, 
And I'll put on my false hair, 
And as we march together, 
The people they will say, 
There goes an Irish couple, 
That keep St. Patrick's day. 

On St. Patrick's Day, &c 



"Wake not that Karp Again. 
Music Published by Oliver Ditson & Co. Boston. 

fS^iff ake not that harp again, 
|^^^g No hands but mine may sweep, 
Impulsive o'er the strings, 

Let its hushed echos sleep, 
For plaintive notes of war, 

Might mingle in its strain, 
That harp is silent now, 

Why should it wake again. 
Once music soft and sweet, 

Rang from this gentle lyre, 
Love taught it dulcet notes, 

Faith gave it sacred fire ! 
Though love may linger still, 

And hope yet wear a smile, 
Faith shrinking, trembling stands, 

Doubting 'tween truth and guile. 
Not heav'n can tempt its flight, 

No hope its bloom restore, 
Wake not that harp again, 

It ne'er must vibrate more. 
For plaintive notes ol war, 

Might mingle in its strain, 
That harp is silent now, 

Why should it wake agaia 






lETISIHIIEIR^S SONG LIBE/ARY. 



MoGOWAFS WEDDING* 

(Copyright Secured.) 

(Britten by John Fielding. Sung by the World's Premier .Irish 
Sketch Artists, The Gbeat Fieldings. 

Twas on the Fourth of last July, 

This is the truth and not a lie. 

That Dan IttcGuwau and Mary Maloye. 

In wedlock were united ; 
And as they had some cash on hand, 
Says Dan, our wedding will be grand; 
More power to you, says "Mary Ann. 

Now who shall be invited : 
The Clanceys, Fagins. and the DoyleS, 
Murphys, Dugins, and the Gores. 
Whaleu, Bagen, and Pafidy Miles, 
The Bolivers, and a hundred more. 

Chobtjs. 

>Pon me worn, the President's Ball, 

Or a fait at Lonigall! 

Finnigan's wake was nothing at all 

Compared to this wedding. 
Music playing, whiskey flying, 
Boys and girls with love a dying- 
Children in the corns s crying— 

At McGowan's wedding. 



Some were playing forty-fives— 
More of them were shaking dice— 
And the girls were making pies ; 

The bride was telling stories. 
Some v ere smoking their dudheens, 
And boys a hugging their Colleens ; 
More were eating Pig's crubeens; 

Sure all were in their glory. 
Fiddlers playing jigs and reels— 
I tell yon they were a happy lot— 
Until the whiskey made them squeal- 
That was the time that things got hot ! 

Chorus. 

Melah, murder, what a time 
Did'nt we see them cut a soiaer 
Drinking whiskey, sometimes wine. 

And on the the lunch a raiding; 
Hugging, squeezing one another — 
Children crying for their mother- 
All mix'd up — this way and 'tother— 

At McOowan^sj^dding. 



OUR OULD IRISH HOME. 

Written and sung by William Scanlan. 

Ould Ireland is our native home, 

Tlie land where we were born, 
And of it we are proud our friends, 

And we ne'er our country scorn. 
'Twas there our poor ould parents died 

Not many years ago, 
And ever since that time we had 

To wander to and fro. 

Chorus. 

From our ould Irish home, 

Our ould Irish home, 
The land of our birth, 

Where strangers may roam. 



mat. 



There's not an Irishman to-day, 

But would light with all his might, 
To see his dear ould country free, 

And illume up grand ai.d bright. 
With the flag of freedom waving high 

O'er Ireland s beauteous home, 
Arrali, then our hearts would beat with joy, 

And we never more would roam. 

From our ould Irish home, &c. 

Uow I long to see the day arrive, 

When we shall take our stand, 
Beneath that green immortal flag, 

And fight for mother's land ; 
To strike ! to strike that wished for blow, 

And break that cruel chain, 
That holds our own dear mother's isle 

In bondage, grief and pain. 

Chorus. 

1 1 our ould Irish home, 

Our ould Irish home, 
The land of our birth, 

Where strangers may roam. .Repeat 



KITTY TYRRELL. 

WORDS BY JEFFERTS. MUSIC BT GLOWER 

g^g'OTJ'RE looking as fresh as the mom 

f<§|g You're looking as bright as the day ; 
But while on your charms I'm dilating. 

You're stealing my poor heart away : 
But keep it and welcome, mavourneen, 

Its loss I'm not going to mourn. 
But one heart's enough for a body, 

So pi ay give me yours in return. 
Mavourneen, Mavourneen, 

Oh pi ay give me yours in return. 

I've built me a neat little cot, darling, 

I've pigs and potatoes in store ; 
I've twenty good pounds in the bank, love. 

And may be a pound or two more : 
It's all very well to have riches, 

But I'm such a covetous elf, 
I can't help still sighing for something. 

And, darling, that something's yourself. 
Mavourneen, Mavourneen, 

That something, you know, is your-elf. 

You're smiling, and that's a good sign, darling 

Say "yes," and you'll never repent •, 
Or if vo'u would rather be silent, 

Your silence I'll take fof consent ; 
That good-natured dimple's a tell-tab, 

Now all that I have is vour own. 
This week you may be Kitty Tyrrell, 

Next week you'll be Mistress Mulene: 
Mavourneen, Mavourneen, 

You'll be my own Mistress Malone. 



SHAMUS O'BRIfc... 
n V&IC PUBLISHED BT J. PETERS, 198 BROADWAS 
<Tf4 " ' Bw eet is the smile of the beautiful 
Ul 1 morn, 

(gg§5 As it peeps through the curtain of 

night, [tune, 

And the voice of the nightingale singing his 

While the stars seem to smile with delight. 
Old nature now lingers in silent repose, 

ADd the sweet breath of summer is calm, 
While 1 sit and wonder if Shamus e'er knows 

How sad and unhappy I am I 

CHORUS. 

Oh! Shamus O'Brien, whydon'tyoucomeboma, 

You don't know how happy I'll be ; 
I've but one darling wish, and that is that 
you'd come, 
And for ever be happy with me ! 
I'll smile when you smile, and I'll weep when 
you weep, 
I'll give you a kiss for a kiss, itEE>— 

Aud all the fond vows that I've made you I'll 

What more can I promise than this? 
ttoes the sea have such bright and such beauti- 
ful charms 
That your heart will not leave it for me? 
Oh ! why did I let you go out of my arms, 
Like a bird that was caged and is free ! 

Oh ! Shamus O'Brien, ete 
Oh ! Shamus O'Brien, I'm loving you yet, 
And my heart is still trusting and kind ; 
It was you who first took it, and can you forget. 

That love for another you'd find ? 
No ! no ! if you break it with sorrow and pain, 

I'll then have a duty to do ; 
If you'll bring it to me, I'll mend it again, 
And trust it, dear Shamus, to you. 

Oh ! SbamusO'Brien, etffi 



FISHER'S SOUSTG- L I B R .A. IR, "3T. 



18 



SINCE TEEEY PIEST JOINED THE GrANG. 

Copyrighted 18 J5. Music to be had of E. H. Hardino. 22=> riowery 

N. Y. Price 10 cents. 

As sung by Soanlan & Cronin. 

My name it is Mike SlaUery, 

And from Ireland I came, 
And I've a son who's a big blackguard, 

And Terrence is iiis name; 
He wears a gold watch and chain, 

And hecalls it a 'super," and a "slang," 
Oh ! my heart is broke, God knows it is, 

Since Terry first joined the "gang." 

Chorus. 
He'll come rolling home in the morning, 

And he'll give the door the divil's own bang, 
Oh ! my heart is brok's God knows it is, 

Since Terry first joined the "gang." 
When he came home last Thursday night, 

Sure I talked to him very nice ; 
When he said old man ! you're getting to fresh, 

And we 11 soon have to put you on ice ! 
He told the old woman for to take a drop, 

And to shut up giving him her slang ; 
Oh ! her heart is broke, God knows it is, 

Since Terry first joined the " gang-" 

He'll come rolling home, <fec. 

Sure, he stands upon the corner, 

From morning until night ; 
And if the policeman says •' move on, " 

He'll spit at him with spite. 
He went to the market only yesterday, 

And there he stole a big ham ; 
And he got three months in the Penitentiary, 

Along with the rest of the " gang !" 



I say, Ladi, have you scon My Molly? 

Air.— The Merriest Girl that's Out. 
(JSafiSTy Molly's such a charming girl, 

(7\^ Her like I'll not forsake; 
She is the Pet of Central Park, 

And famed around the lake. 
But I have missed her recently, 

And in bad spirits, rather : 
Boys, if you tell mo where she i9, 

I'll owe you half a dollar 
Chorus. 
I say, lads, have you seen my Molly ? 
Have you seen her chignon, made of arti- 
ficial hair ? 
T say, lads, have you seen my Molly ? 
She is a little beauty, and the pet of Union 
Square. 
She's up to all accomplishments 

To hops she likes to go, 
And, oh, my ! can't she trip 

Upon the light fantastic toe ! 
She wears a mantle, dress, and shawl, ' 

That cost a dollar complete, 
And sports the new Flexura boot, 

They sell in Fulton street. Chorus. 
She borrwed fifty dollars from me, 

The last time that we met : 
It is'nt that I care about, 

I only want my pet. 
I'd throw myself into her arm, 

If her I could behold, 
And if I don't, 111 throw myself 

Into the river cold. Chorvs. 



THE WAT I MAECH. 

Words and music by John Reilly. Sung by him with im- 
mense success at the Olympic Theatre, Broadway, N. Y: 

Music can be obtained at Perry's Music Store, Boston. Mass. 

Good evening to ye's, one and all, 

I ask yer kind attintion, 
The subject of me song is one 

To you I'll now make mention. 
It's about a day not far away, 

Although it comes but once a year, 
That's the time that we'll all feel gay, 

On Saint Patrick's day in the morning. 

Chorus. 

The drums will beat and the bands will play, 
As clown the street we march away, 

That's the time that we'll all feel gay, 
Oh Saint Patrick's day in the morning. 

If you meet me on that day, 

Tou must not get offended, 
For what I say or do to you 

It never is intended. 
And whin I'm out upon parade, 

I leave all others in the shade, 
It's :;rand to see me in the Irish Brigade 

Ga Saint Patrick's day in the morning. 

The drums will beat, <!fcc. 



DANDY PAT, 
Jfife AM the boy called Dandy Pu 1 -, Dandy Pat, 
KIlS I am from Old Ireland, but what of that, 
@»§ 1 am Pat the Dandy O. 

The girls and boys they shout with joy, shout 

with joy, 
For I'm the true broth of au Irish boy, I'm Pat 

the Dandy, O. 

chorus. 
I'm Dandy Pat I O, I'm Dandy Pat I O, from 

Maenerfelt 
To Mulliuavat there's none comes up to Dano^f 

Pat. 
At wake or fair is my delight, 
For I glory in a rousing fight, does Pat the 

Dandy, O. 
My shillelagh I can twirl about, twirl about, 
Make lumps of skulls to fly about, for I'm Puf 

the Dandy O. 

I'm Dandy Pat,, etc. 

So now, you see, I'm quite complete, quite com- 
plete, 

The world for better can't compete, with Pal 
the Dandy, O. 

I hope my song has pleased you all, pleased 
you all, 

I'll give another description when you calloD 
Pat the Dandy, O. 

I'm Dandy Pat, etc. 

My stick is made of good black thorn, good 

black thorn, 
The finest devil that ever was born, is Pat tho 

Dandy, O. 
I court the girls in every town, every town, 
A merrier fellow there can't be found, than Pal 

the Dandy, O. 

I'm Dandy Pat, etfl. 



14 FISHER'S SOITG- LIBRARY. 




THE ROSE OF ERIN. 


KILLARNEY. 




Words by Claribel. Music by Bknkdiot* 


Written by Ed. Harrigan. 




Musio pub. by Lek fz Walker, Phila. , Pa. Prico 30 cents. 


Sung in En. Harrkian's Irish Drama, "Sharnus O'Brien." 




A.B sung by Myites Morkis, at the Theatre Comique, N. Y. 






Oh, Irish boys and girls, draw near, 




I saw her first in golden hours, 


We'd whisper soft to ye ; 




With primrose stars appearin', 


The way we love, like turtle doves 




0, Queen was she of all the flow'rs, 


Upon a bush or tree. 




The lovely Eose of Erin ; 


Between there's no conceit. 




Beneath the shade of Irish hills, 


Oh, it really is a treat, 




Their Isle's own colors wearin', 


To sit beside tho flowing tide, 




Ah ! where smiled the shamrock all the doy. 


Of the lakes of sweet Killarney. 




There dwelt the Kose of Erin, 






Dwelt the Kose of Erin. 


Chorus. 




J saw her next in summer time, 


Killarny, (sym.) Killarney, och hone, 




With ev'ry charm endearin', 


Oh, beautiful Killarney. 




For she was in her girlhood's prime, 


They say America's mighty great, 




The lovely Eose of Erin ; 


And has its breoks and lakes, 




We met beside the banks of Erne, 


A man might live in royal state, 




No thought of sorrow fearin' ; 


Be fed on ducks and drakes ; . 


j 


Ah ! yet oft I thought her lily pale, 


But here we'll be content, 




My darlin' Eose of Erin. 


As long as we have our rent, 




Darlin' Kose of Erin. 


And stay at home, and never roam 
From the lakes of sweet Killarney. 




Alas ! alas on Autumn's wave, 


Killarney, etc. 




To Heaven her bar]; was steerin*, 


» 




And I, no pray'r of mine might save, 


The little spec that's on the sea. 




My lovely Kose of Erin ; 


They call it Ireland, 




Ah. ! well a-day the Angela came, 


It's large enough to shelter we, 




My heart's own garden nearin', 


And for it we do stand ; 




Ah ! and took from earth to bloom in Heav'n, 


For the Lord above is just, 




My lovely Eose of Erin, 


At some future day we must 




Lovely Eose of Erin, 


Rule every mile in that happy isle, 
Where flows the sweet Killarney. 


. 


■> 


Killarney, etc. 




ERIN, MY COUNTRY. 


NORAH O'NEAL. 
SONG by WILL. S Il-AYS. 


I 


Oh! Erin, my country, though strangers may 


Tho Music can be obtained at ary Music-Store. 




roam 


-^- ■*-- 




Thy hills and thy mountains [ once called my 


Oh.! I'm lonely to-night, love, without you, 
And I sigh for one glance of your eye ; 




OWIj, 


For, Bure, there's a charm, love, about you, 




Thy lakes and thy valleys no longer I see, 


"Whenever I know you are nigh. 




lint warmly as ever my heart beats for thee. 


Like the beam of the star when 'tis smiling, 
Is the glance which your eye can't conceal, 




Chorus. 


And your voice is so sweet and beguiling 




Oh ! " Cushla Machree" my heart beats for thee, 


That I love you, sweet 1ST orah Neal. 




Erin ! Erin ! my heart beats for thee. 


Ch.: Oh! don't think that ever I'll doubt you, 
My love I will never conceal ; [you, 




Long years have passed o'er us since the last 


Oh! I'm lonely to-night, love, without 




time we met, 


My darling Bweet Nora O'Neal ! 




But lived I a thousand I could not forget : 


Oh! the nightingale 6ings in the wild-wood, 




The warm heart that loved me, 


As if every note that he knew [hood, 




The bright eyes that shone 


Was learned from your sweet voice in child- 




Like stars in the heaven of days that are gone, 


To remind me, sweet Nora, of you ; 




Oh! " Cushla Machree" &c 


But I think, love, so often about you, 
And you don't know how happy I feet, 




Dear home of my youth, I shall ne'er see thee 


But I'm lonely to-night love, without you, 
My darling sweet Norah O'Neal ! Choruo, 




But memory treasures the bright days of yore: 


Oh! why should I weep teirs of sorrow? 




And my heart's latest wish the last sigh of my 


Or why to let hope lose its place ? 
Won't I meet you, my darling, to-morrow, 




breast 


And smile on your beautiful face ? [mo 




Shall be for thee, dear home, tjhe land of the 


Will you meet mo ? Oh ! say, will you meet 




west. 


With a kiss, at the foot of the lane ? 




Oh! "Cushla Machree." Ac 


And I'll promise, whenever you greet me, 






That I'll never be lonely again. Choru*. 





FISHER'S SOISTG LIBRARY 



GOD BLESS YOU, COLLEEN. 

Words and Music by Harry Kennedy. 

Sung by the Favorite Balladist, Miss Alice D'Erina. 

The shores of dear Erin recede from my sight, 
As swiftly our bark glides the waters so bright ; 
And eager I look, with a sorrowful gaze 
Upon the dear land where I've passed all my days. 
My thoughts turn to home, and the dear faces there, 
And for my dear Kathleen I breathe a fond prayer, 
And say, as the land quickly fades from my view, 
God bless you. Colleen, f know you'll be true. 

Chorus. 

God bless you, Colleen, I know you'll be true, 
True to th.e heart that beats only for you ; 
Think of me, darling, when from you I stray, 
God bless you, Colleen, when I'm far away. 

A tear dimmed my eyes, as with feeling' oppressed, 

I stiffled the sob that arose in my breast ; 

And thought of the long days of sorrow and pain, 

Before I couid see thee, my darling again. 

That night in my dream I returned to my home, 

And through the green meadows with Kathleen did roam, 

But making the old words come back anew, 

God bless you, Colleen, I know you'll be true. 

God bless you, etc. 



An Irishman Rambles. 

_,rds by Wm. Carleton. Sung by Frank Gayton. 

Mj'm an Irishman bent on my rambles' 
\ Of strange sights I've seen faith a few, 
But its of the queer things I've not seen, 

I'm now going to relate unto you. 
When in New York city I landed, 

I walked up BroanA\ay do you see, 
But if Broadway was walking up me boys, 

What a queer looking sight it would be. 
George Washington's statue on horse back, 

Stands in the great Union Square, 
He brought all the States to Independence, 

I wish it was so every where. 
The General is riding his pony, 

So nate and so tidy you see, 
But if the pony was riding the General, 

What a queer looking sight it would be, 
I then took a walk down the Bowery, 

The boys and the girls for to see, 
And to get a small drop of the crayther, 

As I was out on a bit of a spree. 
A nigger was eating an oyster, 

So merry and happy was he, 
But, if theoy3ter was eating the nigger, 

What a queer locking sight it would be. 



THE FENIANS' ESCAPE. 

An original song of the escape of the Fenians' from Australia 

as written and sung by the great Irish Comedian and Vocalist 

James O'Neil. 

NOW boys if you will listen, to the story I'll relate, 
I'll tell you of the noble men, who from the foe escaped. 
Though bound with Saxon fetters, in the dark Australian jail, 
They struck a blow for freedom, and for Yankee land set sail. 
On the lfth of April last, the stars and stripes did fly, 
On board the bark Catalpa, waving proudly to the sky. 
She showed the green above the red, as she did calmly lay. 
Prepared to take the Fenian boys, in safety o'er the sea. 

When Breslin and brave Desmond, brought the prisoners to the 

shore, 
They gave one shout for freedom, soon to bless them ever more 
And manned by gallant hearts they pulled towards the Yankee 

flag, 
For well they knew from its proud folds, no tryant could them 

drag. 
They have nearly reached in safety the Catalpa, taut and trim, 
When fast approaching them they saw a vision dark and dim. 
It was the steamer " Georgette," and on her deck there stood, 
One hundred hired assassins, to shed each patriot's blood. 

The steamer reached the bounding bark, and fired across her 

bow, 
They in loud voice commanded, that the vessel should " Heave 

to." 
to'ut noble Captain Anthony, in thunder tones did cry, 
You dare not fire a shot at that bright flag, that floats on high. 
My ship is sailing peacefully beneath that flag of stars, 
I'ts manned by Irish hearts of oak, and manly Yankee tars. 
And that dear emblem at the fore, so plain now to be seen, 
"'Tis the banner I'll protect, old Ireland's flag of green. 

The Britisher he sailed away, from the stars and stripes he ran' 
Ho knew his chance was slim to fight, the boys of Uncle Sam' 
So Hogan, WUson, Harrington with Darragh off did go, 
With Hassett and bold Cranston, soon to whip the Saxon foe. 
Here's luck to that noble captain, who well these men did free, 
He dared the English-man-of-war, to fight him on the sea. 
And here's to that dear emblem, which in triumph shall be seen 
The flag for which those patriots fought, dear Irelands' flag of 
o;ree;i. 



A ORA GAL MACHREE. 

|»_ gra galmachrcewhy solongareyou waiting 
Kg|j? The bright sun is rising, o'er all things in 

view, 
The birds from the greenwood are hastily shaking, 
The dew from their wings and are looking for 
you. 
Their songs are quite feeble, their heads droop in 
sorrow, 
They want your sweet voice to enliven their 
strain, 
Arouse from your slumber and from yen they 
will borrow, 
Such sweet flowing notes as will cheer them 
again. 

A gra gal machree, then awake from your sleeping 

The green fields and meadows are lovely to view 

The cowslips and daisies with dew drops are 

weeping, 

All nature seems anxious to greet and see you . 

The emerald lawn with its shining primroses, 

The bright crystal stream at the foot of the 'hill, 

The forest trees blooming and nothing reposes' 

Yet cushla machree you are slumbering still. 



A 



-J. FISHER'S LIST OF OHEAF PUBLICATIONS. 



jENT song- books. 

uenny Hughes' Dolly Yarden. 

2. Squeeze Me, Joe. 

3. Johnny Wild'a Dat Settles Dat. 

4. Jennie Engle's Grand Parade. 

5. Sheridan & Mack's Character. 

6. Harrigan & Hart's Mulcahy Twins. 

7. Johnny Roacli's Greatest. 

8. Kiss Behind the Door. 

9. Delehanty & Hengler's Songs, &c. 

10. Miles Morris' Irish Gems. 

11. Foy Sisters Songster. 

12. McKee & Rogers' Rebecca Jane. 

13. Jennie Engle's Serio-Comic. 

14 The Fielding's Songster. « 

15. Wayne & Lovely's Acrobatic. 

16. Johnny Roacn's Emerald. 

17. I want to go Home to Mama. 

18. Luke Schoolcraft's Shine on. 

19. Billy Cotton's Old Black Joe. 

20. Delehanty & Hengler's Love, &c 

21. Billie & Maggie Ray's Old Log Cabin. 

22. McAndrew's"Water Melon Man. 

23. Johnny Roach's Its Fanny when youFeel, &c. 

24. Harrigan & Hart's Mulligan Guards. 

25. Walter's & Morton's My Gal. 

26. Billy Carter's Great Banjo Solo. 

27. Johnson & Power's Little Moke. 

28. Jennie Engle's Favorite Songs. 

29. Shoot the Hat. i 

30. Freeman Sisters' On Board the Mary Jane. 

31. Jennie Hughes' I Should Like To. 

32. Woman's Temperance. 

33. Gus Williams' Belle of the Ball. 
84. The Fieldings' Tipperary Couple. 

35. Harrigan & Hart's Tom Collins. 

36. Wild & Bradley's Big Fat Nance. 

37. Larry Tooley's Bouncing Dutchman. 

38. Harrigan & Hart's Regular Army. 

39. Ain't You Awful. 

40. Harrigan & Hart's Patrick's Day Parade. 

41. Arnold Brothers' Jig, Sons; and Darce. 

42. Diamond & Ryan's Irish Hod Carriers. 

43. Harrigan & Hart's Mulligan Grds(2d An. Prdc) 

44. Sandford & Wilson's Musical Mokes. 

45. Harrigan & Hart's Skidmore Guards. 

46. Billy t'ourtwright's Flewv, Flewv. Flewy Sngstr 

47. Harper & Stansill's One Legged Songster. 

48. Fieldings' Irish Domestics Songster. 

49. Tony Pastor's Traveling Songster. 

50. Jenny Morgan's Kiss Songster. 

51. Foy Sisters' Mr. and Mrs. Thompson. 

52. Wild & Bradley Theatre Comique. 

53. Alice Harrison's Olympic. 

51. Billy Carter's Champion Banjo. 

55. Cool Burgess' Nicodemus Johnson. 

56. Alice Bennett's Laughing Eyes. 

57. Richmond Sisters' Challenge Song and Dance. 

58. Harrigan & Hart's Day wc Celebrate. 

09. Dr. J. L. Thayer's Laugh and Grow Fat, &c. 

60. Sheridan & Mack's Knocking on de Outside £c. 

61. Harrigan & Hart's Gallant 69th. 

62. T. M. Hengler's Fun in the Kitchen. 

63. Delehanty & Cummings' Sunset in the South. 
61. Rollin Howard's Dramatic. 

65. C. L. Davis' Dutch Song and Dance. 

66. Johnson and Bruno's Mania Monia Nigs. 

67. SamDevere's Caricature Song. 

68. Miles Morris' Roger O'Malley. 

69. Harrigan & Hart's Blue and Gray. 

70. Harper & Stanslil's Sweet June Rose. 

71. Ada Richmond's Wait till Moonlight Falls, £c. 

72. PatRooney's O'Rieley You're N. G. 

73. La Verd Sister.' sailing on the Lake. 

74. Ella Wesner's Kin,' of Trumps. 

75. T. M. Eugler's Sweet Aleen. 

76. Harrigan & Hart's Hildebrand Montrose. 

77. Jolly Nash's Our Boys. 

78. Tierney & Cronin's Ashante Recruits. 

79. Big Four. Lester, Allen, Smith &, Waldron. 

80. The Murrays' Drops of Blarnev. 

81. Western & Walliug's Just as You See us Now. 

82. Am. Team, \Vayne, Lovely, Cotton & Birdue. 

83. Jakey Walfingstein. 

84. Larry Tooley's Turn Down Your Collar. 

8"). Bennett& Kemell's Across the Raging Waters. 

86. Foster & Dudley's Irish Clog. Song and Dance. 

87. The Braham's Vocal Character Sketch. 
83. Har.-v Montague's Popular Songs. 

89. The Fielding's New York. 

90. Winnett's Love iu Broken German. 

91. Sam Martin's One Leg Soldier. 
93. Jennie Lindsay's Stvle of the Day. 

93. Virginia Stickney's Parisian Variety. 

94. Harrigan & Hart's Theatre Comique. 

95. Sam Devere'e Combination. 

93. J. O. Neill'a Candidate for Alderman. 
97. Frank Lewis' Hurrah for the Minstrel Band. 
93. Will You Love Me When I'm Old. 
99. John Reilly's The way I March. 
103. Billv Pastor's Star Traveling. 

101. H.Osborne's &F.WentWorth'sLad&Lass, &c. 

102. Johnson & Bruno's Just from Tennessee. 

103. Scanlon & Cronin's Irishmen to the Front. 
10!. Foy Sisters' Branigan Band. 

105. Harrigan & Hart's S. O. T. 

106. Niles & Evans' Two Love Letters. 

107. Arnold Brothers' Triple Clog. Song and Dance. 
103. Kirk* Drew's Mischiev's Offspring. 

103. Sam Devere's A Lean Banana. 

1!0. Harry Braham's Silly Billaud Father. 

111. Scanlan & Cronin's Poor, but a Gentleman Still, 

112. Harrigan A Hart's Slavery Days. 

113. Dick Sands' Irish Character. 

114. Bryant & William-' slender Nigs. • 
*ir>. Li/.z'c Braham's ,■' . et Bye and Bye. 

116. Delcti.iu.ty & Hengl . s Re-united Serenaders. 



117. Murray's Old and Young. 

118. Frank Lewis' Motto Songster. 

119. Harrigan & Hart's Gliding Down the Stream. 

120. Harrigan & Hart, Walking for dat Cake. 

121. Jeppe and Fannie Delanos' Love at First Sight. 

122. Clara Moore's Character and Descriptive. 

123. Will Morton's Behind the Scenes. 

124. Kelly & Ryan's Bards of Tara. 

125. Bran New BigFour. 

126. Cool Burgess Don't Get Weary. 

127. Scanlan & Cronin, Dundreary O'Donnell. 

128. James D. Roomes' Fashionable Beats. 

129. Lydia Thompson's On the Strict Q. T. 

130. The Peasleys' O'Rielleys' Raffle. 

131. Girard Brothers' Dancing in the Sunlight. 

132. Harrigan & Hart's Sunday Night when, &c. 

133. Chas. Konollman's New York Variety. 

134. Sheehan & Jones' Man of Education. 

135. Chas. Diamond's Milanese Minstrels. 

136. The Murdoch's Don't Yon Do It. 

137. Will. H. Trimble's Specialty. 

138. The Bennett's Kitchen Domestic. 

139. F. Lewis's Remember you have Children &c, 
110. Larry Tooley's Mutton Pie. 

141. Harry Woodson's Gwine Back to Dixie. 

142. Harrigan & Hart's Front Stoop. 

143. The McKee's Dancing in the Barn. 

144. Wot den & Mack's Little Ruby. 

145. Ben Dodge's Don't take any Notice. 

146. Collyer & Kelly's Buck Goat. 

147. Delehanty AsHengler'sStrawberriesand Cream. 
1 is. Fields & Hoey Musical Songster. 

149. Whoa Emma. 

150. Harry Montague's At it Again. 

151. Harry Bennett's Charley Flynn. 

152. Tim Roger's Ain't he a Baby. 

153. Harrigan & Hart.'s Isle de Blackwell. 

154. Bobby Newcomb's Sweet Forget me Not. 

155. H. Osborne & F. Wentworth's Irish Comedian. 

156. Duncan Sisters' Down in the Meadows. 

TEN CENT HAND BOOKS, 

Assorted as follows : 

1. Art of Love, Courtship & Marriage 

2. Art of Good Behavior. 

3. Book-Keeper's Assistant. 

4. Conjuring. 

5. Favorite Letter Writer. 
G. Hoyle's Games. 

7. Hocus Poous. 

8. Key to the Kitchen. 

9. Lightning Calculator. 

10. Napoleon's Oraculum 

11. Oriental Fortune Teller. 

12. Presto Change. 

13. Prophetic Dreamer. 

14. Ready Reckoner, No. 1, 
1 5. Ready Reckoner, No, 2. 

16. Sparring, No. 1. 

17. Sparring, No. 2. 

18. Toast Book. 

19. Young Cook. 

20. Lovers' Letter Writer. 

21. Ventriloquism made Easy. 

22. Book of Conundrums. 

23. Negro, Irish and Dutch One Act 

Sketch Book. 

TEN CENT JOKE BOOKS, 

Assorted as follows : 

1. De Bureau of Nigger Jokes. 

2. De Bran New Joker. 

3. Matrimonial Jokes. 

4. Irish Joker. 

5. Dutch Joker. 

6. George Christy's Joke Book. 

7. Little Joker. 

8. Ryman & Hart's Jokes and Stump 

Speeches. 

TEN CENT NOVELTIES. 

Little Flirt, Fan Shape. 
Little Fascinator, Fan Shape. 
Lovers' Telegraph, Fan shape. 

TWENTY-FIVE CENT SONG BOOKS. 

Handsomely printed on fine paper, with beautifully 

colored Lithographed Covers. 
The Burlesque Songster. 
The Champion Sone and Dance. 
Tony Pastor's Budget of Fun. 
New Can Can. 
Jennie Hughes' Vocal Gems. 
The Sprig of Shillelah Songster. 
The Dutch Eurlesquo Songster. 
Harrigan & Hart's Comique Songster. 
Barney & Rickey's Irish. 
Delehanty & Cummings Variety Sngstr. 
Sam Devere's Burnt Cork Songster 
Pat Rooneys Characteristic Irish Sgst'r 



TWENTY-FIVE CENT HAND BOOKS. 

Bound in Boards, handsomely illuminated Covers. 

American Letter Writer. 

Bon Ton Letter Writer. 

Lovers' Letter Writer. 

How to Behave & how to Write Letters. 

Wheel of Fortune & Egyptian Dreamer. 

Astrologer. 

Madame Celeste's Fortune Teller and 

Dreamer. 
Magician's Instructor. 
Secrets of Love & Guide to Matrimony. 
Negro Comicalities. 
Ready Reckoner. 

TWENTY-FIVE CENT BOOKS. 

Little Flirt, Cloth, Gilt. 
Charlotte Temple, i8mo, Boards. 
Lucy Temple, 18mo, Boards. 
National Text Book, 1 8mo, Paper. 
Art and Anecdotes of Ventriloquism- 

TWENTY-FIVE CENT COMIC B00!(S. 

12mo., Hluminated Covers. Each one illustrated 
with 150 Engravings. 

Game Bag of Fun. 

Broadgrin's Comic Diary 

Jolly Boat. 
I Lumps of Laughtei 

Merry Elephant. 
I Rib Tickler, 
i Merry Thought. 
| Plum Pudding. 
! Clown; or Banqttet of Wit. 

Comic Show Shop. 

Joke upon Joke. 

1000 Comic Bubbles. 

FIFTY CENT HAND BOOKS. 

32mo, Cloth, 256 Pages. 
American Letter Writer. 
How to Behave & How to write Letters 
Wheel of Fortune. 
Lovers' Letter Writer. 
Astrologer. 

One Hundred and Sixteen Games. 
Sparring. 
Toast Book. 

FIFTY CENT SONG BOOKS. 

32mo, Cloth, 256 Pages. 
Forget-Me-Not Songster. 
American Songster. 
Home Songster. 
Singers' Gem. 
Love Songster. 
Sailor Boy Songster. 
Exile of Erin Songster. 
Fireman's Songster. 
Old Ireland's Vocal Gems. 
Ethiopian Serenador. 
Negro Forget-Me-Not Songster. 
Serenade Songster. 
World of Negro Songs. 
Modern Songster. 

ONE DOLLAR SONG BOOKS. 

ISmo, Cloth. 

Book of 1000 Songs. 
Mammoth Songster. 
Giant Songster. 
Big Songster. 

FIFTY CENT HAND BOOKS. 

ISmo, Boards, Illuminated Covers. 

Complete Book of Magic. 
American Joe Miller. 
Complete Dreamer. 
Fortune Teller. 

Farrier and Farmers' Receipt Books. 
Cook Book and Family Doctor. 
Manual of Preserving, Pickling and 
Canning Fruit, 



Any book in this list mailed free on receipt of prise. 



^. .J. 



TER, Off* Nassau Street^ New York. 



